Peace
by Sagewhisker
Summary: As Silverstream's life comes to an end, another's is just beginning. She makes one final decision, makes one final impact, to ensure that she, and the cats she loves, are at peace. One-shot. R&R?


"_You've done it, Silverstream!"_

I've done it_. _I've done it. _The thought echoed through her mind, each repetition dulling the stabbing pain shooting through her spine. She shifted her head slightly, ignoring the sharp resistance in her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a tiny dark gray blur being carried away. Her head dropped back down onto stone and she closed her eyes. _I've done it.

_One of her ears twitched as she heard claws scratch frantically against the rock behind her. She opened her eyes feebly in time to see a cat circle around her head and drop some herbs in front of her face. The cat was dripping with fear-scent as she mewed, "You need to swallow this herb."_

_Silverstream turned her gaze upon the herbs blankly, then squeezed her eyes shut as another stab of pain shot through her. She felt her left leg kick out in a quick spasm. She was doing everything she could to fight it, but still she could feel her life seeping away into the sand and rock below her. She thought she could hear voices sneaking in over the roar of the river._

"_Here, Graystripe, make her eat as much as she can."_

Graystripe_. His name thundered in her ears, drowning out the voices and the river's rumble. She stared around wildly, trying to find the named cat. "Graystripe?"_

"_I'm right here, Silverstream."_

_She looked up to see his face looming above hers, fading in and out of focus. She breathed a sigh of relief that turned to a shriek of agony as the pain returned, shooting through her in another spasm._

_Graystripe let out a low, eerie wail. She shuddered._

"_Are the kits…?"_

"_Silverstream, you need to eat some of this," Graystripe mewed, ignoring her question. She tilted her head forward slightly to see him nudge the bitter smelling herb forward. "You've got to stop the bleeding, or you'll – "_

_She narrowed her eyes as his voice cut off. She knew what he meant. She knew that it was coming. Her heart was racing, pounding with the effort of keeping her alive. Silverstream closed her eyes again. She could hear the other cat, the medicine cat, meowing – "Hold on, Silverstream!" – and she could hear Graystripe scramble in front of her, pressing his nose against her side in panic. "Silverstream!"_

_She opened her eyes one last time. The world seemed brighter somehow, too bright, and she looked up at her mate, her love. A final rush of energy flowed through her and she raised her head to touch her nose gently against Graystripe's, hoping that he could feel all of her love for him – a lifetime's worth of love – just from that one touch._

_A moment later, as she felt her energy fading and saw the forest darkening, she flicked out her tongue and licked the gray warrior's cheek. "Good-bye, Graystripe. I love you. Take care of our kits."_

_The rest of her dwindling energy suddenly drained, and her head fell back onto the rock. She stared ahead, fixing her fading gaze on Graystripe's paws. She reached a paw out to them, trying to reach him a final time, but her strength failed her and her leg jerked back._

_The world turned black._

"_No, Silverstream, no. Don't…"_

_

* * *

_

She opened her eyes slowly, disoriented. _Ugh. What happened?_

She blinked a few times and shook her head, trying to focus. Her narrowed gaze darted around as she struggled to her paws; her fur was bristling with agitation. It took Silverstream several long moments to realize that she was home, in the RiverClan camp. The ground beneath her was soft and sandy, covered with moss, feathers, and tiny shells. She was in the nursery, where she had spent much of the past few moons, where she had been right before….

_It must have been a dream. A bad dream, that's all._

The gray queen reached out with her front legs, bowing into a long stretch, but she could not shake off the feeling of foreboding that clung to her pelt. Something was not right. When she drew in a long breath, she swore she could almost taste a trace of blood in the air. She shuddered.

"Mosspelt?" she called, realizing that the tortoiseshell, the Clan's other expecting queen was missing. Her ears flattened uneasily. There was no answer. "Mosspelt, are you there?"

"Mistyfoot?" One darkly tipped ear twitched as she heard rustling in the reeds behind the nursery. Some cat was creeping through them. When no answer came, she added hesitantly, much more softly, "Graystripe?"

When, still, no reply came, she spat in frustration, "Answer me, whoever you are!"

Still, there was nothing but silence. Silverstream unsheathed her claws and was comforted by their sharpness as they sank into the matted reeds below her. She crept toward the entrance of the den. If there was an intruder here, in the camp, she would have to see him off. With a light hiss, she slithered into the main body of the camp, looking around sharply for whoever was sneaking around.

Across the clearing, peering out at her from within some reeds, she spotted a large, reddish-brown tom with luminous eyes. His fur seemed to radiate with some sort of energy; even from the other side of camp, Silverstream could feel it teasing at her paws. She meowed weakly, "Crookedstar?"

The tom blinked once, then veered away, disappearing into the reeds. The silver she-cat gasped in shock, then raced after him, calling, "Wait!"

She dove into the reeds, weaving her way skillfully through them. Her ears were perked forward as she tried to seek out the sound of the tom's pawsteps; they were strangely light for a cat of his size. Who was this strange cat? She had an odd feeling that she knew him.

"Fox dung," she spat as she lost track of the tom's pawsteps. She raised her nose to try to seek out his scent, but could not. Even when she bent down and brushed her teeth against some reeds where she _knew_ he had passed, she could find no trace of him. It was like he never existed.

"This way!" hissed a deep, mysterious voice.

"Who are you?" she growled, snapping her head to the left and shooting off in that direction. She passed beneath a willow tree, hopping instinctively over the roots that bumped up from the ground; she had been this way many times before. Silverstream realized that she was being led to the river, and to the border with ThunderClan.

Finally, the reeds began to thin, and Silverstream spotted the tom ahead of her, leaping nimbly across the stepping stones to the other side of the river. She slowed her pace as she pushed through the last of the reeds and stepped into the water-soaked sand. The tom made a final leap to the opposite bank and turned to look at her, tilting his head arrogantly. He meowed, "I knew you'd follow me."

"What?" Silverstream growled, stepping forward slowly. The tom's bright figure became clearer the closer she got. Her eyes shot wide open as she finally recognized him. "Oakheart!"

The reddish-brown tom watched as the silver she-cat pounced across the stones and landed nimbly on the bank next to him. She looked back at him, but his expression was unreadable. "You are between the living world and StarClan. I have been sent to guide you… on."

"On?" Silverstream breathed. The fur on the back of her neck began to rise and her eyes widened in terror. She yowled, "No! I can't!"

Her head ducked and she closed her eyes tightly, unbelieving. _No, this can't be happening! Not now!_

"And why not?" Oakheart meowed, looking on coolly. "You will have a place among our ancestors." He paused before adding accusingly, "Unless it has to do with those cats over there."

He pointed with his ears toward the group of cats just beyond them, gathered up against Sunningrocks. Silverstream could only stand stunned at the sight. The young medicine cat was staring blankly at the river, like she could not believe what had happened. The ThunderClan deputy was scowling, digging his claws into the sand as he slid down to join her. Above them all, at the top of the gully, stood Fireheart, frozen in place, looking down at his best friend and…

"Graystripe," she whispered, in agony from watching the gray tom's pain. He was hunched over her body, hardly breathing. As she watched, he bent down and nudged her motionless figure again, like he could not bring himself to believe that she would never respond to his touch again.

"You seem very familiar with that tom," Oakheart meowed, noticing where she was looking.

"Graystripe…" she meowed again. Her gaze slowly slid to her paws, where it stayed for a long time. Finally, she looked up, her eyes hardened, and she meowed, "No. I can't die now. I can't leave my kits. I can't leave… him."

"I thought so," Oakheart growled, flattening his ears. "Leave it to a ThunderClan cat to steal your heart from RiverClan."

Silverstream shot him a sharp look, but was taken aback when the StarClan cat averted his gaze instead of meeting hers. She watched him closely, surprised. There was something in his resolute stiffness that made her suspicious. "I love Graystripe. I can't leave him now. I _won't._"

There was silence as Oakheart paused. His luminous eyes bored into Silverstream's, but she held her ground and stubbornly stared right back. Finally, he meowed, "I'm sorry, but StarClan can do nothing to change what has happened. You will die here."

The silver tabby did not flinch. She hissed, "You say you're sorry, but… but, this is a punishment. I _know_ it is. I broke the warrior code by taking Graystripe as my mate…"

The tom shook his head. "No."

"No?" Silverstream growled back, her fur beginning to bristle indignantly. _No? How could this _not _be a punishment?_

"StarClan has no quarrel with you," Oakheart meowed. "You did not turn your back on RiverClan. You only followed your heart. Living with your kits separate from your mate would have been punishment enough."

_Oh, would it have been? And you know this… how? _Silverstream narrowed her eyes. Oakheart's voice had dwindled off; for the first time, he looked sympathetic. "Then why…?"

"Why do you have to die?" Oakheart offered. The light in his eyes seemed somewhat dimmer. "I do not know. Call it destiny, if you must, but I do know this…" He pointed with his nose toward the smaller of the two kits. As they looked on, the little she-kit opened her mouth wide and mewled hungrily. "This one has a great destiny ahead of her. Every cat in StarClan has dreamed of it."

The tabby's fur flattened again; a sense of pride tingled Silverstream's paws. _My own little kit… a great destiny._ At the same time, though, Oakheart's comment also troubled her. She turned her attention to the other kit, a darker gray tom-kit. "And what of this one?"

The reddish-brown tom hesitated, taking a long time watching the tom-kit. He twitched his tail nervously before the response came, "He is very weak."

"Weak? How weak?" Silverstream demanded, her eyes widening. She could see that the tom kit's breathing was not as even as his sister's, but _surely_ StarClan would not be cruel enough to take his new, innocent life, would they? _Surely_ they would not allow him to be punished for something his mother had done? The other tom's silence caused the she-cat's stomach turn. Her expression dulled and she looked at Oakheart pleadingly; she needed to hear something, anything, that would tell her that her son would be safe.

Oakheart's silence crushed her. _They would_.

"I can take you to StarClan's forest now," the tom meowed finally, refusing to make eye contact with the she-cat, "or I can take both of you together. It is your choice."

"What kind of choice is that?" Silverstream spat, her voice bitter. Though Oakheart had avoided saying it, she knew what he meant; she could sever ties to life and join StarClan, or wait until she could take her son with her. It was an impossible question – how could she possibly answer?

"What is your choice?" Oakheart persisted.

The silver tabby growled at him and lashed her tail. Her claws raked the ground in frustration. What should she do? What would be better for _all_ of them? She would die soon – that much was certain and she accepted it. She had lived her life, perhaps not in the way she had hoped to, but her son had yet to even open his eyes. When he came to StarClan, what would he be like? Would he even recognize her as his mother, never having had the time to bond with her while living? Would it be better just to let him go now?

_Never_, she thought, _I'll never let him go. I'll never let my daughter go… or Graystripe… or my son. I'm his mother. I have to protect him…_

Silverstream carefully picked her way over to the tiny gray tom-kit and looked down at him. Oakheart followed her and watched her carefully; he mewed, "Are we going now?"

"Yes. We're going," the silver tabby meowed, her voice dull and emotionless. She gently placed a paw on the tom-kit's body; he did not stir. "But he's not coming with us."

Silverstream was still alive for the moment, she knew; she still had some energy in her that was keeping her tied to the forest. It would soon leave her, though, so she would have to act quickly, if what she was planning was even possible. She crouched at the kit's side and pressed her nose into his fur, concentrating hard on just one thing. _My first and only gift to you, my son. I hope it will be enough…_

A heat as hot as fire seared through Silverstream's pelt and she felt her life draining away into the tiny cat in front of her. Her eyes burned and she squeezed them shut, unwilling to pull away. _This has to work._

The world went dark again for a moment as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was greeted by flashes of different colors and scenes – of reeds and willows, of rock and water, and of many unfamiliar cats – and by a rush of scents she could not identify.

Her pelt burned for a few moments more, the images she saw brightened into white, and then all was numb.

* * *

The tabby looked around at the familiar sand, reeds, and water. She was again in the RiverClan camp, but it was different this time. Many cats stalked about, fading in and out of vision, their fur glowing with energy and dappled with points of shimmering light. There were so many of them; familiar faces mingled with cats Silverstream had never known. But here there was no fear of intruders. Every cat here was a Clanmate. Every cat here was at peace.

A reddish-brown tom came up and sat beside her. Silverstream flicked her tail lazily at him in greeting. She meowed, "And who were you just spying on, then?"

"For the last time, it's not spying, Silverstream," Oakheart purred back, "but if you must know, I was watching Stormpaw. His training is going well."

The tabby's eyes glowed with pride. "I know."

**A/N**: So, I started this a long time ago – about the same time I started Resolve, I think. A couple of days ago, I unearthed this from the mound of unfinished documents I have saved and read over it, wondering why I hadn't finished it. So… I did. Well, that would be an understatement, actually. I rewrote a good chunk of it to conform to my style of writing now (and to make it less… ridiculous sounding) and finished off the ending. It might read a bit funny for that reason, but… I certainly hope not.

Thanks for reading. :3 Review, please? Or, if you care to, feel free to check out my other fanfics for more one-shots.


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